I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t date either.
I’m not an official old maid yet (God, no, I’m only 25 and yes, I’m being too paranoid)
My being single is partly a product of circumstance and partly a consequence of free will. I am not single for the sake of being single. Nor am I a commitment-phobe (or so I thought, but then again…) I had a very unsuccessful relationship in the past and it didn’t end well because we disagreed on so many things, not to mention, he was becoming a bane on my self-esteem.
That was the deal-breaker.
So, it came to the point where I must evaluate and weigh my position against the available alternatives relative to my personal happiness. In other words, I ditched the guy, (or was it the other way around?) and decided to wait for a while instead of jumping the gun and falling into the wrong relationship again.
But back to the topic again, Do I like being single? Yes. Being single certainly has its upsides. Having freedom and personal latitude are just some of the perks.
But basically, being single affords me the opportunity to discover who I am, what I do and don’t like, how I deal with things, what I want out of life, what my expectations are, what my potentials and limitations are, what energizes and empowers me, and what discourages and disappoints me.
But of course, there’s always a drawback. There are times that I just want to shout: SINGLE LIFE SUCKS! And the proverbial “being alone doesn’t mean you’re lonely” tirade just don’t work anymore. I slip out of my “independent woman” mode and give into my “damsel in distress senti” mood:
Being single for quite sometime, I would usually go out alone, I would walk around the mall and look for a good restaurant I haven’t tried yet. Sigh. I’ve eaten pretty much everywhere; I’m getting sick of it. (This is usually on bad days, when being alone just gets to you…honestly, I really look forward spending the day just by myself, not that I don’t have friends to go out it…tch, I’m rambling…you know what I mean) And that the only thing I would love to do is make dinner with someone. What I really want is a meaningful relationship. Everyone wants that, who doesn’t?
Sometimes I wonder if I’m being too picky. But there’s a big difference in just being with someone who catches my fancy at the moment, than being with “the one”. That’s short of saying that I’m settling. And I don’t want to just “settle”. Simply stated, I want somebody who will love me, all of me, quirks and trappings included, and whom I will love just as much, is that too much to ask?
But snap back to reality, (thank God) I’m my “being boyfriendless doesn’t make me less of a person” persona again. But admittedly I would be applying different criteria to my happiness were I in a relationship. In being single I may have the freedom to do whatever the hell I feel like without having to consult anyone. I can come home as late as I want, hang out with anyone I like, and basically have lots and lots of fun. However, at the same time, being single robs me of the freedom of being in love. So it’s a trade off and in many ways.
I really think that being alone should not be to prepare us for couplehood, rather, the goal of being single should be to learn to fulfill ourselves, to meet our needs, and to develop as a person regardless of whether or not we choose to enter into a relationship. By learning to love and care for ourselves, we diminish the risk of starving for someone else to fill the void within our souls; a void that only we can truly fill. I believe that the purpose of entering into a relationship should be to share oneself with another person as opposed to trying to get from someone what is lacking in ourselves. Expecting someone else to fill in the gaps usually results in grave disappointments, a sense of failure, and, endless resentment
Liberties aside, the greatest element to being single is the excitement of the indeterminateness of my romantic life. I am excited by what could be. Ordinary spaces buzz with possibilities. The most banal encounter is loaded with the opportunity to be exciting. In a way, being single reminds me of when I was younger, watching cheap backyard fireworks. The most exciting part was always in the waiting, in the instant just before the bang.
So I stopped pestering God with my “send me a lover” tunes. 
Here I am.
Awaiting, childlike and daring.
